to not be forgotten

Hadn’t listened to the rain
in the waning moments of the storm
just the rustle of branches
their half-methodical scrape
against the side of the house
people laughing in the distance
a playful scream as they
no doubt
try to avoid the inevitable
and the final low rumble
the crier
having left its post
giving one last call
on the off-chance
anyone is left to care
or maybe
making a final attempt
to not be forgotten.

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